"Sir, no casualties to report," Yavo said, brushing dirt from his sleeves. "Our injured are being treated in the medical tent… set up by, uh…" He turned to the brown-haired woman tending wounds nearby. "Dr. Dhalia."
Cane nodded and turned to Fergis. "We finish the last group, then return to Topoc Hill."
Fergis cracked his knuckles. "I'll have the troops ready."
Cane vanished, stepping outside with Moxie and Pudding.
—
High above, Pudding soared in widening spirals, its sharp gaze sweeping the terrain.
Cane sat in complete stillness, fully immersed in paired vision. "Circle back. Something's wrong. They wouldn't have just retreated."
A flicker of light—a reflection off metal—snagged his attention. "West. Range close."
It turned out to be a sword strapped to the saddle of a dead horse.
"They've gone to ground," Cane muttered. "They must've regrouped with the survivors from the psi ambush. Smart. But not good enough."
Minutes later, Pudding found it: over 300 soldiers hidden in a long ravine, completely obscured by a massive, expertly camouflaged tarp that blended into the terrain like magic.
Cane examined the artifact cover. "Never seen anything like it. Has to be a custom weave. Shame we'll have to torch it."
—
Back in the ringworld, Cane laid out the plan.
"Yavo, your platoon hits first at the entrance with me. We push panic into their ranks."
"Raymi, once we ignite the fear, your team seals the back door. Fergis and Teek bring the hammer—turn that ravine into a memory."
With the simple but effective tactical plan, they deployed.
Cane led the charge toward the ravine's entrance, Moxie prowling at his side. Two guards stood post. Cane accelerated—two strikes, two corpses—and they were in.
"FURY!"
Fire erupted, confined and concentrated by the canyon walls. Yavo's platoon advanced with flaming swords, the second line fanning the inferno forward.
"FURY!"
The ravine became a furnace. Soldiers trampled each other trying to flee.
Cane vanished again.
At the far end of the ravine, Raymi's platoon and Moxie dropped from a rift like judgment incarnate.
"FURY!"
Fire and steel carved a wall of death. The fleeing soldiers crashed into it, their panic turning to hopeless collapse.
Then came the skyfall.
METEOR SHOWER.
Fergis stood atop the ravine like a demigod, the tarp covering the ravine bursting into fire as molten rock and ash rained down. Teek's platoon followed, steel and fury descending in his wake.
At the center of it all stood Fergis, flame dancing across his armor, Azar gripped in his hands. His eyes glowed like coals, white-hot.
BALEFIRE.
BALEFIRE.
Twin streaks of white flame screamed through the battlefield, incinerating men and beasts alike. Sand turned to glass. Metal liquefied. Bone became vapor.
Even Teek paused, awe in her eyes. The ginger she teased and liked… was a dragon made flesh.
—
An hour before sunset, 1st Company returned to Topoc Hill.
Their armor scorched. Their blades blooded. The enemy utterly vanquished.
Blood drawn. Fire quenched. Victory claimed.
Cane received Davon's report upon returning. No enemy sightings. No word from the TOC.
"Have your men ready for Mess. We can ease the defensive posture and return to roving guard duty."
Teek joined him, soot streaking her face, her armor dulled from flame and fighting. But her eyes still burned bright.
"Sir, the men have cycled through the Mess Hall."
"Have them check gear and weapons, then turn in." Cane gripped her shoulder, smiling. "I told you weeks ago—when we first started training Fury Company—we'd sweep across the battlefield, scorching both man and earth."
Teek smirked. "What you said was less poetic—but you were right."
"Send out a fresh scout rotation. Eyes on the field."
"Yes, sir." She reached into her belt, retrieving a scorched guidon from Thunder Battalion. "Bring them this."
—
Sophie pursed her lips in concentration, ink flowing across parchment in her meticulous, clean script. "Anything else?"
Cane and Fergis ate as she wrote, the soft sounds of quill on paper mixing with the occasional clink of cutlery. Brammel and Selene sat nearby, quiet but attentive.
"Good work today, lads." Brammel lifted a half-empty pint. His bushy brows creased with pride. "See if you can find out how the rest of Fury Legion fared."
Cane nodded as Sophie carefully dried the pages, then slid them into his satchel.
He glanced at her. "Did you get to ride the gryphon today?"
Sophie smiled, her eyes bright. "Yes. We flew out over the ocean. It was… perfect."
"We need to get back. Walk with me?"
She rose, slipping her hand into his without hesitation.
As they walked, Sophie leaned her head against him. "The cadets… they were so excited to be part of things today. For the first time, I think war stopped feeling like a story."
Cane stopped, brushing a kiss against her lips. "Remember what you once told me? About the inn for travelers? The waystop with a restaurant on the ground floor, and guest rooms above?"
Sophie blushed, nodding. "Yes. A place where people could rest, recharge, feel safe."
"We could build that here."
Her arms looped around him, face tucked against his neck. "Really?"
"Pick the site yourself."
They passed the porch where the others were gathered. Cane waved. "See you tomorrow."
—
Runner Belzi did a double-take when Cane entered the TOC.
He approached Commander Terok without ceremony, dropping a charred guidon onto the table.
"Thunder Battalion," Cane said. "They approached Topoc Hill. We intercepted. None escaped."
Terok picked up the blackened banner, the scent of smoke still clinging to it.
"Casualties?"
"None, sir. Minor wounds only." Cane placed the written report beside it. "Full details."
The Legion Commander's fingers tightened on the guidon. A small, satisfied smile crept onto his face.
"You're the first confirmed clash with the Zuni. Outstanding work, Captain."
"We'll keep holding the hill, sir."
"Do that."
Cane saluted and turned to go, offering nothing else.
He didn't need to.
The message had already been sent—in smoke and ash and fire.
**
Legion Commander Locust stood surrounded by his officers, waiting for the ravens.
The first day of any new front was about establishing defensible positions—not engaging. Still, tension hung in the air.
Locust was tall and thin, with spindly arms and legs like a marionette left in a mage's robe. He studied the map arrayed before him; most battalions had reported in.
"Who's left?" he asked, voice like sandpaper across silk.
A petite woman in black leather armor, eyes shadowed and sharp, gestured toward the map's center. "Thunder Battalion. They were tasked with securing Topoc Hill."
"Thunder Battalion is cavalry," Locust replied, frowning. "They should have arrived by now."
"They should have," she agreed. "Shall I send scouts?"
Locust shook his head. "No. If we don't hear from them by morning, I want you to go yourself."